


Clouds

by spikyskeeter



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bittersweet, I love him really, M/M, Modern AU, Unrequited Love, Why Did I Write This?, bofur my poor baby, he deserves bilbo I'm just a sadist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:40:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25012546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikyskeeter/pseuds/spikyskeeter
Summary: Bofur has so much love to give, but no where to put it.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Bofur, Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, unrequited boffins - Relationship
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	Clouds

Bilbo and Thorin were fighting again. Bofur sighed and stubbed out his cigarette as he gazed out the window. It was raining, and the smell drifted in from outside, helping to soothe his soul somewhat. 

He could hear Bilbo shouting from downstairs and Thorin arguing back. His friends were both good people, but like any couple they had their arguments. The trouble was they were both terribly stubborn people too, so when they argued, it was the passionate sort rather than quietly sorting it out.

He put on his headphones and slumped down on his bean bag. He'd only meant to nap a little when there was a knock at his door, and he realized it was dark outside.

"Just a mo'" he croaked, his eyes still bleary.

Then the soft voice on the other side of the door.

"May I come in?"

* * *

Bofur had loved Bilbo Baggins before he even realized it. The small Englishman had moved into the shared London semi-detached house with himself and his three other friends. Bofur was pleased to have a new roomie and Bilbo was pleasant company. 

They seemed to get on well, both having a love for the same music and both of them had a similar snarky sense of humour. Bofur made Bilbo laugh, a sound that he became more and more addicted to hearing as they lay in the grass in the small garden out back and pointed at clouds, watching for interesting formations.

“Aaaand that one looks like a knob,” said Bofur, his cigarette dangling from his mouth as he spoke.

“You think EVERYTHING looks like a knob.”

“I know, how very Freudian of me.”

Bilbo laughed like a clear bell and Bofur felt his heart do a back flip. 

“That one,” said Bilbo, scooting closer, tugging on one of Bofur’s hat flaps and pointing a little to the right, “looks like a dragon. See the long neck and tail? Don’t you dare!” he laughed, covering Bofur’s smiling mouth before his friend could say anything lewd again. 

And Bofur loved lying out here on the lawn, feeling comfortable and warm and happy with Bilbo, watching his laughing, sparkling eyes and that was when he realized he was in love with his housemate. How could anything be bad in the world when Bilbo looked at him like that?

And then Thorin had happened. Had moved in and before long he and Bilbo were an item and Bofur had not even had a chance to articulate how he felt. And it was pointless to do so now. Bilbo would not suddenly change his mind if he confessed his feelings to him. Life didn’t work like that. 

But that didn’t stop him from wishing it to be so. Or dreaming about Bilbo and waking up in the morning, both his heart and his cock aching with need when he realized his brain had merely played a trick on him when he was asleep. 

* * *

* * *

Bofur opened the door. "It's it okay if I stay in here tonight?" asked Bilbo outright. He was in his pyjamas- an oversized T shirt and boxer shorts and looked so damn  _ cuddly _ . Why did he have to look so pleasingly plump and have such soft curls on his head, and make those delightful expressions with his face?

"I can sleep on the bean bag," he was saying. "I don't want to be any trouble."

Another person, someone who was not Bofur may have felt slightly bitter at the suggestion. Might have internally rolled his eyes at the fact that his friends, one of whom he was deeply smitten with were having another lover's tiff and he was expected to put bandaids on their emotional wounds. But when faced with Bilbo's tear streaked face, Bofur felt nothing but Bilbo's pain mirrored and his heart softened and melted. He wished Bilbo could be smiling right now. If Thorin appeared right now and made up with Bilbo, it would be worth it to see Bilbo smile, even if he'd get to spend another lonely night thinking about what it would be like not to sleep alone in his bed once again.

"Of course ye can," said Bofur softly. He led Bilbo into the room and gently closed the door behind him. "But you take the bed. I'll take the bean bag."

Immediately Bilbo started up with his automatic politeness. "Oh no, I couldn't! It's your room, I don't want to impose, I…" Bofur scooped him up and flung him onto the bed before he could protest further.

"Too late," he grinned. "My decision is final.  _ I  _ get the bean bag. Plus I was just napping on it before ye came in." 

Bilbo pouted, but there was the faint hint of laughter in his eyes. He'd bounced when he hit the mattress, and emitted a squeak which should not have been so adorable and should  _ not _ have sent a pang of want through Bofur. 

He shoved down the feeling as best he could and flopped down onto the bean bag. "Make yerself comfortable. You can turn out the light whenever ye want." 

"Yes, I think we should both get some sleep."

Bilbo flicked the bedside lamp off and Bofur slowly willed himself to drift off. Bilbo's breathing helped. Even though he was six feet away on the bed, it was closer than Bofur usually got to him while sleeping, and that was comforting.

He woke up around 3am. He figured it was because he had slept in an odd position on the bean bag for half the night, but as he turned to try to make himself more comfortable he heard it: a soft sob.

Bilbo was clearly trying to cry quietly, even though he thought Bofur was asleep. 

The man could see Bilbo's shoulders shaking. He was hugging himself as he faced away from Bofur.

Bofur couldn't help it, he was up and sitting on the bed. 

Bilbo looked up at him, somewhat startled. Then his face crumpled and a louder sob escaped him.

Bofur flattened himself against the mattress and put his arms around his friend. "There, there," he whispered softly. Surely it can't be all that bad?"

Bilbo curled up against him. He was crying into Bofur's T shirt now, leaving a wet stain.

"What was that?" asked Bofur, In response to a muffled mumble from Bilbo.

Bilbo shifted his face so Bofur could hear him better. "Sometimes I think he hates me," he said unevenly, trying to pull himself together, and Bofur could sense it.

"I'm sure he doesn't. People say things in the heat of the moment."

"I don't understand why he doesn't listen to me," Bilbo was saying. "It's like he does things that hurt him and my opinion doesn't  _ matter _ when I'm upset about that."

Bofur wished he knew what to say. It was true that when they argued they didn't do it by halves. Perhaps they were too different in some ways… Or too  _ similar _ .

He patted Bilbo on the back, trying to soothe the smaller man in the most platonic way he could, when really what he wanted to do was hold him tight and kiss the tears on his face away. He did, however, allow himself to rest a cheek on top of his curly, soft head.

Bilbo cried some more, then eventually sobbed himself out from exhaustion and fell asleep. Bofur held him gently the entire night. He wondered if he should feel guilty holding Bilbo in his own bed, but it felt so good to have Bilbo closeby that he found it hard to feel any sort of regret except for the fact that Bilbo was sad.

Eventually sleep embraced him too and he passed out with his head still resting on Bilbo's.

When he woke up the next morning, Bilbo had left. In fact, were it not for the fact that the sheets still smelled like him (and Bofur snuggled down further into them because of that), he would have wondered if it was a dream. 

He sat up, fresh heartache flooding his chest, and got dressed. He needed to go down to breakfast. Maybe he would check to see if Bilbo was okay.

Halfway down the stairs he heard laughter in the kitchen. When he reached it, Bilbo and Thorin were chuckling, holding each other. Whatever they’d argued about had been sorted, the cracks smoothed over.

“Ye gonna hover over there or can I get to the kettle?” Bofur joked, trying to hide what felt like a lead weight in his stomach.

Thorin shifted to one side, raising an eyebrow and giving him a look that said “by all means.”

Bofur managed to drag his feet towards the kettle. 

Honestly, he really should just move out. It wouldn’t hurt the couple to do so. It would give them more space, and he’d be able to try and work on getting over all this. 

“Can I have a cuppa too?” said Bilbo, moving beside him and looking up at him. “Can you put enough water in for two?” He touched Bofur’s elbow, as if to thank him for last night.

Then Bilbo smiled at him, and he instantly changed his mind, just like he did every single time. He wanted to stay, because the world could not really be so terrible, when Bilbo Baggins was in it.


End file.
